


How it is meant to be

by Beyney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Castiel survives, Future Fic, Gen, Nostalgia, Sam and Dean found peace, Storytime, alternative roadhouse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 21:37:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13819938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beyney/pseuds/Beyney
Summary: Centuries after the death of Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel still wanders the earth, unable to return to heaven.Alone he travels the countries and grows to be a Myth.Amongst Hunters rumours spread that there is a guardian.Someone who helps when one is in desperate need, only demanding one payment. He wants to be listened to when he tells his stories. His tales of times long ago.Times when legends were formed.





	How it is meant to be

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in English and also the first fic I publish here on AO3. I love to get constructive criticism as well as comments and thoughts in general. Be kind, my first language is not English.  
> I also based this fic on a post I randomly found on Pinterest, although it was originally from Tumblr.  
> Have a nice time reading :)
> 
> Edit: Now beta read

Abbie entered the dimly lit bar and let her gaze wander over the few customers there. Some of them looked average, like guys who would just turn up for a beer or two after a long day of work.  
The majority of the people present were like her, though.  
Abbie saw it in their eyes, surveying the room, looking for the ever-present potential danger, and in their seemingly relaxed positions.  
Hunters.  
With steady steps, Abbie walked through the room towards the bar and settled herself on one of the stools. Without needing to say anything, a beer was placed in front of her and the young woman lifted her head.  
"Thanks, Jay." She shot the barkeeper a genuine smile.  
"No Problem. Nice to see you, Abbie. It's been a while, though. What drove you back here? Yearning for your ex?" He winked and Abbie flashed him a grin.  
"You wish," her smile faltered a bit. "No, actually, I found a case nearby."  
Jay rested his forearms on the counter. His dark blonde hair reached almost to his neck and, for a moment, Abbie missed the feeling of running her fingers through the soft strands.  
"What was it this time? Another rougarou? Nasty things"  
Abbie pressed her lips together. "No, it was demon activity."  
Jay lifted an eyebrow. "Isn't that a bit out of your league?"  
Wordlessly she pulled her beer closer and took a sip. A quick glance out of the corner of her eye showed her Jay waiting for an answer.  
"Listen, Jay. Either way, it's over. I am still alive, as you can see."

*

She didn’t tell him how close she had come to dying. How she had found the demon's lair by accident and how the next thing she remembered was waking up tied up in the said lair.  
She didn't tell him about the hopelessness she had felt upon awakening and the panic that had nearly overwhelmed her. Her weapons had been taken away from her, even the small razor blade which she had hidden in the sleeve of her Jacket.  
The demon had been sat on a table and looking through his admittedly large knife collection before he had picked out a medically looking one.  
"You have no idea how much humans are worth on the black market within the supernatural world," he had said.  
She had closed her eyes as the demon approached and for the first time in her life started to pray.  
Hunters had their own myths and legends, but one of the most known, the most hope-giving one was definitely the legend around the patron of the hunters. A being, often also referred to as a Guardian Spirit.  
If this Guardian once had a name, it was long lost in history and no one bothered to search for it.  
It was said to be ancient. If the stories were to be believed, he came when prayed to by hunters in times of desperate need. So Abbie prayed.  
'I don't want to die,' she had pleaded as she listened to the approaching footsteps of the demon.

*

But she told nothing of this to Jay. He was already much too worried about her.  
"Girl, you will only survive long if you don't poke every bear you happen to stumble on."  
"I am fully capable of taking care of myself, thanks a lot." She had no intention of meeting up with demons again any time soon.  
She took a pull on her beer and Jay shook his head, frowning. He knew any more words would be lost on her. He turned his attention towards other customers.  
Absently Abbie brushed with her thumb over a crack on the countertop.

A cold breeze rushed through the room as someone new entered the bar.  
Abbie threw a short glance over her shoulder and instantly recognized the cheap suit and the slightly dirty trench coat of the man who had just stepped in. He was backlit by the sun setting behind him, its soft glow filtering into the room through the still open door.  
She remembered.

*

Warm Hands laid themselves down on her shoulders.  
The sound of the demon faded.  
The ropes around Abbie's wrists vanished into thin air, but she couldn't bring herself to open her eyes. Too great was the fear, she imagined her savior. Despite her panic, she heard someone struggle before a blinding light filled the room. She could even see it through her closed eyelids.

*

The man walked through the bar without haste, making his way towards Abbie.  
His face gave away no emotion and she grew uneasy where she sat, awaiting him.

*

The warm hands had returned. They pulled her from her crouched position and sent a pleasant warmth through her body, which stopped trembling.  
Had she been trembling? Apparently so.  
She opened her eyes.  
Blue.  
Her savior had the most beautiful blue eyes. He had a somber look on his face and he managed it to make sure she wouldn't break down only with his gaze.  
Behind him lay the demon, eyes burnt out and obviously dead.  
Then, with a small fluttering noise, he was gone. Without a word.

*

He sat down directly next to Abbie. The silence was broken a few moments later by Jay strolling over to take the stranger's order.  
"Thank you... for your help earlier," said Abbie finally, once Jay had walked away.  
The man looked at her openly. "You pleaded for help," he just said, "So I helped. I listen to prayers."  
"Especially those from hunters."  
"Especially those," he confirmed with a small nod.  
Abbie turned around fully to look at him.  
"Who are you?" she asked bluntly, deciding to take the opportunity to question him. "They always talk about you, but nobody seems to know who... or what you actually are," she added after a short second of hesitation.  
"What do you know about me?"  
Abbie felt his relaxed gaze on her, as she thought about it and drank her beer.  
"Some say you are a ghost," she started, "You know, a hunter doesn't finish a job or fails to protect someone. Says he has a feeling he still has to help people. Sometimes even death can't hinder someone trying to finish such a task."  
"So?"  
"Nah, not possible. First, no ghost can wander around freely like you evidently do. They're all bound to something on this realm. Secondly, ghosts are not strong enough to kill demons. Thirdly..." She took all her courage and poked him in the arm. "Nope. No ghost."  
He smiled a little. "So, what's your theory?"  
Abbie flushed a bit. She had the same theory as most other hunters, but if she was wrong he would probably laugh at her.  
"If I didn't know that Heaven is closed and only the souls of the deceased can go in and nothing can ever come out, I’d say you are an angel."  
"Hm."  
What was she supposed to make of that?  
"You know, all evidence points to that. Your legend reaches far in the past and you listen to prayers."  
"I seem to do so... are there other things told about me?"  
"Yes. That you save people for a price. But I've never heard from anyone actually paying a price of any kind."  
He looked almost offended. "I am not a crossroads demon who takes his victims' soul in exchange of favors. And neither am I a mercenary."  
He sighed, "But I guess that rumor isn't completely unfounded."  
He took his food from Jay and thanked him with a small nod. A simple burger and a salad. Nothing special.  
"I tend to search for the people I helped, shortly afterward. Just like I searched for you."  
Abbie frowned. "And then?"  
"Nothing. We talk. Simple as that." He caught her staring at him in confusion. "I have seen and experienced so much in the centuries of my existence...I don't get to talk to people that often." He lowered his head and started to eat.  
Abbie remained silent. Finished her drink. She gestured Jay for another.  
"How did you become a hunter?" he asked between bites of his food.  
The young woman flinched. "I'm an Orphan. My little brother and I lived in a foster home. It was overrun with werewolves. They managed to kill both my foster parents and my little brother before two hunters could finish the job. I begged them to take me with them to learn how to save people."  
She shrugged. "I was sixteen and I just wasn't going to let them get away. So Ace and Jonathan took me with them and taught me everything I know about the supernatural. Later they even managed to introduce me to the Men of Letters. I studied there for nearly a year."  
The man in the trench coat looked up, surprised. "You know about the Men of Letters? I didn't think their existence was common knowledge."  
Abbie shrugged again. "It's more like an open secret. Everyone knows who they are, but they are rarely talked about. People know who to talk to if they need information."  
He nodded in understanding. "And did you learn anything? Or do you prefer active hunting?" he asked.  
"I prefer actual hunts. I can lose myself in the huge libraries of the Men of Letters, though. I did actually. Lose myself there, I mean. Sometimes for hours. But in the long run, I wouldn't stay sane just surrounded by books. I tend to get restless easily."  
He hummed approvingly.  
"One time I found an incredibly interesting book," she continued. "It dealt with explanations of Heaven, Hell, and even Purgatory. Of course, most descriptions of Purgatory are just speculation as nobody who's ever been there has made it back, except for some seriously rare monsters. But it was an interesting read nonetheless."  
"They're not"  
"What?" She looked up, surprised.  
"They're not just speculation. Coincidentally I know that specific book and can even say that I was there when it was being written."  
Casually he finished off his meal as if he hadn't just talked about being present for something that had probably happened over a hundred years ago.  
Abbie watched as he stood up and she followed him as he went to a more private corner of the bar and seated herself across from him on a new table. She felt Jay's curious eyes on her, but she ignored him.  
"You were there when that book was written?" She knew she sounded disbelieving.  
"Yes. I may have even written a paragraph or two myself." He smiled. "What do you know about... the author?" He asked.  
Abbie thought back. "Two authors, if I recall correctly. Just mentioned as S. and D. Besides that? Nothing."  
He folded his hands. "They were family. Brothers, actually. Sam and Dean Winchester."  
He waited for any kind of reaction on her part. He was not disappointed.  
Abbie took a second to process his words and promptly choked on air. She cleared her throat.  
"What? The Winchester brothers are just legends. Stories hunters tell on get-togethers to make each other hope that they'll have a chance of surviving the next hunt," she protested.  
The man shook his head. "Oh no, they lived and it is a privilege to have been considered one of their closest friends; family even." He stared into the distance, clearly lost in other times. He chuckled lightly.  
"Sam surely would not have ever believed to be the stuff legends. He would have been flattered." A sad expression took over his face and, for a moment, Abbie feared he would break down in tears.  
"They really existed?" Disbelief colored her voice, but the man just nodded.  
"Yes, they did. But many of the stories told about them are not completely accurate. You, humans, do tend to exaggerate in your tales."  
Abbie snorted lightly. "Yeah, tell me about it. I was once told they killed Death during one of their escapades."  
He winced, "Well, that particular story is true. Dean did, in fact, kill Death."  
"Seriously? How do you even kill death? I mean, isn't the point of death that it's like... I don't know, just a construct or something like that?"  
The man tilted his head to the side. "Well, Death with a capital D is or was, in fact, a being and could, as such, be killed. Death without a capital D, on the other hand, is a concept. You could say he was the boss and the concept, his namesake. Or vice versa, I don't know."  
Abbie's head seemed to be buzzing with all the confusing information. "So how does one kill Death, capital D?"  
"Very few things exist that are capable of killing a being as ancient and powerful as Death. Dean used Death's own scythe. He was given it by Death himself to kill Sam."  
He sighed. "Death should have known by then that nothing was more sacred to the brothers than each other. Instead of killing his own brother, Dean killed Death. That, of course, had other consequences, tightly bound together with other events that happened beforehand."  
A small smile crossed his lips and he leaned back in his seat. "They always had the unique talent of attracting trouble wherever they went. And that meant trouble of apocalyptic proportions. Trouble coming in the form of Lucifer, the Darkness, Leviathans and so on. They started wars without meaning to and managed to end them all and more. They managed to save the Earth, they saved other realms..."  
His voice trailed off until Abbie could barely hear him anymore. "They saved me..."  
He stared down at the table.  
Abbie didn't know what to say or do. So she just sat there quietly and waited until the man turned his attention back to the present. Mostly anyway.  
"Excuse me." He breathed in deeply and smiled apologetically. "No matter how much time passes, I can't seem to get over the fact that I will never see them again. Their place is now in Heaven, while my place will forever be on Earth. I can't do much except for making sure their story is heard and hope that they will be remembered as the heroes they were."  
Abbie smiled, "I'm sure they will be. I will remember them."  
He shot her a grateful look.  
"They didn't just deal with the world-ending events, you know? There are also some more lighthearted stories to tell. Well, it depends. Most of the time the brothers wouldn't find it very funny when it was happening to them. But looking back on them, some of the cases they handled were quite hilarious. Once they were trapped in a TV Shows universe by a trickster, another time they were haunted by their greatest fears - clowns in Sam's case. And on one occasion, they had to fight fairies."  
Abbie tried to hide her grin.  
He was clearly trying to move on to less disheartening anecdotes, so she listened. He told her about various cases and hunts, moving on from the brothers' childhoods to their youth and then about their journey to becoming the legends they were known as to that day.  
Sometimes Abbie couldn't quite believe what he was talking about, I mean come on; humans in Purgatory? Time travel?  
But the man in the trench coat sitting across her told everything in detail, sometimes using small hand gestures to underline parts of his story.  
He told the tale of two brothers who loved each other deeply, who despite the heavy burdens they had been tasked to carry by Fate, kept fighting. They were never alone. Even after losing one family member after another, they built their own family, never giving up on hope and faith.  
Abbie was so deeply enthralled by the story that she almost lost track of time.  
His voice trailed off after what felt like an eternity and he paused, she had to blink a few times to come back to the reality.  
She ran her fingers clumsily around the glass of now lukewarm beer.  
Outside the window, she could see a new morning approaching. "You know, I don't know that they will ever be forgotten," she said quietly without looking at him.  
"I hope so. And one day they will know. One day, someone might carry their story into the heavens and tell them. Tell them that everything was worth it. That their sufferings will never be forgotten. And maybe," his voice got a little bit quieter, "Maybe one day they will know, how much they are missed. How much what's left of their family misses them and wishes that everything stays exactly same because they are at peace. And this is how it is meant to be."  
Abbie watched as the sun began to rise and when she heard the soft fluttering of wings she knew he was gone.


End file.
